NOVEL SIMPLE Behind the mask, part 1
Before leaving this place hopefully forever, I had one last chance to take advantage of the local riches. Even after destroying the system, there was still plenty to be had. Among them, I borrowed several nanomasks, a very useful but expensive invention that allows you to take the form of another person. In the database I also found ready passes, or rather complete data packages for many Shield employees. Moreover, these identities, in most cases, were not even fake. The apostles had enough of their own people in this and many other key organizations. During the years of preparation for the return of their god, they had made extensive preparations, looking for candidates everywhere they could, and wherever they could not.
Looking through the lists, I suddenly caught sight of a familiar name. It was Phil Colson, almost Fury's right-hand man. There's even his nanomask matrix and fake pass, which, by the way, were never used by the apostles' spies, preferring to use less visible people for their purposes, ideally, already recruited double agents.
I used to work with Phil when I was a superhero. I must say, Fury had the foresight to leave the personal work with potential vigilantes to this guy. Phil himself was the nicest person I've ever met. In an amazing way he combined both the softness of communication, often indispensable when dealing with aspiring supers (many of whom are under a great deal of stress and are unable to assess reality soberly), and, when necessary, the ability to become unwavering and resolute. For me personally, the main dispositive factor about him was that Colson always took his charges' problems very personally.
He's not the kind of man who coldly sends soldiers on a suicide mission. Frankly, I'm glad he stayed a man in this world, too, and judging by his record, he's not much different from his alternate version. There are so damn few of us in this crazy world. What's this? T.A.I.T.I. Secret Protocol. Never heard of it. Wow, even the ubiquitous apostle bloodhounds couldn't figure out what kind of project Colson was working on. But, hell, the mere fact that they know it exists... Fury's gonna be pissed. They have an almost complete dossier on the man he plans to hand over his post to in the future. I think it's time to take advantage of the information my "flock" has gathered. Combined with what I found out on my own when I searched for information about Gwen and Bobby, it will give me unobstructed access to most of the shield facilities.
There is no stalling in any case. Many of the double agents are now in this building, some died during the assault, others were exposed to sleeping gas. One way or another, both Shield and Hydra will soon be missing many employees, it's worth hurrying before they start digging in that direction themselves and my data is still valuable enough.
"What's that?" One of the cameras set up near the exits to the surface detected movement.
A couple of female operatives in respirators were trying to get out. When the hell did they put on gas masks?
Anyway, it was time for me to leave, too, so, dressed in clothes more appropriate for the role I intended to play in the near future, I headed straight to the couple.
Along the way I came across a dozen dead bodies-not all of the defenders had gone over to the side of the traitors.
And this one is likely to die of her wounds before she wakes up... as are many of the others in the viewing room. I didn't finish the wounded with my own hands, and there were no one willing to help them, either. Many, probably most of them, would die in their sleep...
My meeting with the Sleepless was most amusing. They saw me as I was approaching the door.
"Take them off," I told them, "it's time for bed."
The two women were well armed and must have known how to handle their weapons, but they hesitated to point their machine guns at me. They looked at each other indecisively, looking to each other for support.
"Come on, I'm not going to waste my time on you," I urged.
At last one of them could not stand it and threw her machine gun to the floor. As she pulled off her gas mask, the motives for her decision became clear. Mace Carson, the cowardly daughter of the apostle I killed, had not only successfully avoided a deadly fight in the viewing room, but had also protected herself from the sleeping gas. Yeah, don't underestimate the determination of a rat running from a sinking ship.
The second woman, on the other hand, was determined to put up a fight. She must have joined Carson after the massacre, and not seen the actual fighting, to think she stood a chance.
My spidey sense had warned me of her intention to open fire beforehand, but I was no longer where the shots had gone. She might as well have been catching the wind. In fact, I was more concerned about not damaging my suit with my sudden movements than with the fight itself. I didn't want to have to go back and change clothes again.
I didn't kill her. I just took the gun and pulled the gas mask off her head. For ten seconds she stared at me furiously, making no futile attempt to escape, but the effect of the gas that filled the entire complex was unstoppable.
Standing in front of the opening doors, I felt a certain trepidation. In a sense, this body was a newborn, and this was the first time it would ever come out into the sunlight. Still, I was incredibly lucky to have such a fortunate collection of data on Stacy's and, especially, Wanda's genes at my disposal. Without the use of Wilson's X-gene, it would have taken much, much longer to grow this body, not to mention the risk of accidentally harming it in the process.
If you think about it, purely technically I'm a clone of three people at the moment. Appearances and brains from Peter Parker, spidey abilities and genes from Gwen Stacy, and X-gene from Wanda Wilson. Which in a way makes me related to Stacy and Wilson...
I had hoped that Venom and Spiderwoman would save me when I left an invisible web for them as a pointer, and they did, albeit not in the way I had hoped. And now it was my turn to save them, for it was mostly my fault that they had fallen into the trap set by Daisy Brennan. But at the time I hadn't looked that far ahead, leaving a trail for Gwen seemed like a good idea-it was a backup plan in case the Lizard serum and my skills weren't enough to break out of the trap on their own. I hadn't considered the fact that the girls were too inexperienced in this sort of thing, unlike my captors.
At last the doors opened, and a rush of warm air rushed into my face, bringing with it the scents of the forest outside the compound, the fine particles of dust and pollen, which immediately made my nose turn scratchy. I could tell, because until now this body had breathed only sterile air that had passed through an elaborate system of filters. Following the smells of nature, I felt the persistent aroma of gasoline and machine oil, it was from the outdoor guard post. Very good.
The guards who noticed my appearance, I had to knock out and drag inside, where they kept the younger Carson and her militant girlfriend company, and then I again blocked the exits. I remembered the time I'd escaped from Cindy Shaw's estate, when my inability to drive a truck had been the reason I'd taken Bobby hostage. If it hadn't been for that incident, she'd probably be behind bars right now, along with the rest of her outlaw associates. Which was doubly amusing, considering that in the past I had learned to drive and gotten my license (my family life had made that necessary), I just hadn't had access to much of my memories at the time of my escape.
This time I got behind the wheel of a young Harley-Davidson that I liked and found not far from the post. Its owner, one of the guards on duty at the outer post, simply didn't want to drive her stallion into the underground parking lot, which played right into my hands.